


but every time you hurt me the less that I cry

by deathlytireddan



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlytireddan/pseuds/deathlytireddan
Summary: It makes something tight in Adam's chest open up, roaring it's ugly head in protest. Adam pushes it down harder each time.Adam is so afraid to see what he'll be when it can't open anymore.





	but every time you hurt me the less that I cry

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Sam Smith's new [song](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AX8-YzMKZhQ) Too Good at Goodbyes and wrote this listening to it. It's an Adam song.
> 
> Warnings: This is a pretty heavy story. It deals with past child abuse, and has brief strong language. Stay safe!

Adam has a memory. 

Sunlight slanting onto pale cream walls and mint carpets, a warm hand rubbing his back as he sniffs into a tissue. Fresh bandaids on his hands and a cookie in his stomach. 

Gooey chocolate and peanut butter.

Adam doesn't know who was rubbing his back. It might have been his grandma, before she left.

It might not even be real, just a dream he dreamed when he was a kid, wishing someone would bandage his hands and rub his back and give him gooey chocolate and peanut butter.

It doesn't matter how old he is. Adam will remember the soft hand on his back, the taste of blood on his tongue, the stickiness of bandaids and that mint green carpet, the bright fuzzy light in the corner of his eye.

Adam is eleven when he decides it wasn't real. Who would waste their time helping him? 

-

Gansey is something Adam doesn't want. He doesn't want the uncomfortable feeling that will come when Gansey gets bored of him and leaves, makes Adam walk alone again.

It makes something tight in Adam's chest open up, roaring it's ugly head in protest. Adam pushes it down harder each time. 

Adam is so afraid to see what he'll be when it can't open anymore.

Finally, he decides Gansey won't hurt him. On purpose at least. But Ronan did, does, will. Adam looks forward to snapping something back, the almost comfortable bickering. It's a weird kind of stress relief, a kind of therapy, he supposes. Ronan takes out his anger on Adam and Adam takes it, throws it back at him. 

Gansey is often stuck in the middle, just wanting to play school house with his books and his kings and his beautiful mind. He is the only thing Adam and Ronan can agree on, probably. They might hate taxes equally, too. 

There is Noah, too. He's like the fuzzy white light in Adam's memory, made barely visible from tears, an afterthought. 

"You are sad, aren't you," Noah says once, when Gansey and Ronan have run into Monmouth from the pig, freshly sweaty and freshly happy from another hike in the mountains. 

Adam startles, looks up from the window. He doesn't want to join them yet. The closer he is to doing that is the closer he is to leaving. 

Noah pats his shoulder, pale face a million miles away, relieving a moment Adam cannot see. "You'll be better, you'll see." Noah says. He opens the door and leaves, drifting away softly. 

It's a strange choice of words. Not 'it'll be better.' 

'You'll be better.'

Adam opens the door, limbs unfolding awkwardly. He aches from his morning in the garage, from his afternoon hike, from a shift at the factory that waits for him tonight. 

He closes the door hesitantly, looks up at the shapes of Ronan and Gansey up above in the dirt smeared window. Ronan's head is thrown back in a laugh Adam can't hear. 

How like kings they are, with Adam watching them from below their throne. Bitterness rises in his throat, from that place he hates so fiercely, so darkly. 

Adam catches their gaze and waves, walks to his bike. He needs to leave, before he does something.

The door opens with a bang and Ronan comes out, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only evidence suggesting he hadn't leisurely strolled outside. 

Adam doesn't know what to do with that. 

He looks at Ronan, holding the bike awkwardly. "Yes?" 

"We're getting pizza," Ronan says, somehow making it sound like a challenge.

Adam has never joined them at Nino's. Hasn't wanted to eat something he didn't pay for, hasn't wanted to admit he can't pay for it. 

The door opens again. Adam looks over, sees Gansey approach them quickly. "Please, Adam?" Gansey pleads, looking like a sad puppy. 

"Come on, Parrish," Ronan says, "you look like a fucking stick." 

Adam bristles. But there is nothing he can say, is there? 'Yes, I don't eat enough.' 'Yes, I look like a fucking stick'. 

Adam goes with them, just to cover up the very sudden silence and Gansey's concerned puppy eyes. 

-

On one of their trips to Nino's they meet Blue Sargent. She is soft, stubborn, red lips and eyes that seem to find every one of the parts of himself that are wrong. 

They don't last, were never something that was going to. She wants Gansey and Adam had only ever wanted the idea of her. 

That doesn't stop it from hurting, doesn't stop Adam from feeling like second best, like the last piece no one wants. 

He wants every piece and aches for more, too. He wants, wants, wants.

Adam has just barely grazed the surface with his fingertips, doesn't deserve to feel the way he does. But drops cling to his skin, force their way underneath and travel through his bloodstream, settling in his heart like pieces of ice.

He sees them looking, look, look at him. 

Ronan does, too. 

There was never a definite moment he noticed. The hand cream, the lingering looks, the sounds coming from his shower when Adam is meant to be sleeping. His bitten lips and red cheeks afterward. 

Adam hates Ronan with a burn he feels in that bit of himself. It keeps him hot when the heat fails in winter and makes him sweat and cry out in summer.

Finally, finally, Ronan kisses him. 

-

Adam is crying on the toilet again, shirt collar pushed over his nose and mouth to muffle him. It's something he learned a long time ago, hates that he's using it again now, with Ronan.

Ronan. Ronan. Ronan.

Ronan is hot and cold, Ronan makes him so angry it scares him and makes him feel so happy, so wonderfully, completely happy, that he wants to leave and never come back before it's too late.

Adam sniffs, blows his nose on a bit of toilet paper. 

It's been a month. What will he do when he leaves? 

So he's starving himself, again. He's not letting Ronan help him, preparing for when it won't be an option, whether he wants it or not.

Adam wants so badly to wake Ronan up, to be held and comforted. He wants that hand on his back. 

He takes shallow, gasping breaths, pressing his shirt over his face. For a horrible moment he doesn't want to stop, wants to disappear into it and never climb out. 

The door opens, squeaking loudly. Adam jerks, falling off the toilet and banging his elbow. He hisses, clutching it to his chest and looking at the door with wide, horrified eyes.

The light flicks on, putting spots in Adam's vision. Ronan looks back, shirtless and eyes puffy from sleep. "Adam?" 

Adam presses against the wall, crammed between the tub and the toilet, knees to his chest. His eyelashes stick together, shirt still blocking his broken gasps.

He doesn't know what to say.

Ronan slowly approaches, sitting across from Adam and making himself as small as possible. "Dream?" He asks, eyes gentle and searching.

Adam nods, slowly pulling his shirt down. He can feel how raw his lip is, torn and bitten into. "Ronan." He stumbles over the name, voice cracking. 

He wants that hand on his back.

Adam reaches out, hesitant and searching. Ronan moves immediately, instinctively, pulls him against his chest, tucks Adam's head under his chin.

Adam inhales roughly, clutches Ronan's back, feels the bumbs in his spine. Hands slip under his shirt and press against his skin, warm and heavy and there. 

"Ronan, Ronan-"

"Hey, it's okay." Ronan squeezes, kisses Adam's wet cheek.

No, it's not okay. It's suddenly important, desperately important, for Ronan to know what Adam is doing to himself. Because the stronger, sadder, other Adam that will wake up in the morning never will if he doesn't now.

"Th-this is the fifth time." Ronan stills around him. "I'm-it's for when I'm in college. So I'm used to it again."

Ronan doesn't speak, for a long minute. 

"Used to what?" He asks finally. 

"Being alone," Adam says miserable. 

"Adam. Oh, Adam. No, no. You are never going to be alone ever again."

"Why?" Adam whispers.

"Because I'm here, you fucking idiot." The hands move again, so warm. 

"Oh."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment? 
> 
> You can also leave a prompt at my [tumblr](https://nostalgiclondon.tumblr.com)


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